


Deepening Heart, A

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Drama, War of the Ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 03:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3881098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eowyn struggles with her heart in a lonely corner of the Rohirrim camp. Rated G. Brief mentions of Merry, Sauron, Theoden, Eomer, and Aragorn; also a lot of angst. RotK movie-verse. Slight SEDVD spoiler.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deepening Heart, A

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

**A Deepening Heart**

_“My lady, you are fair and brave, and have much to live for, and many who love you.”_

I laughed at that. Really, I did. Not out loud, but inside of myself. And again I was reminded of the innocence of these Halflings. I am a woman of the Court, and so I appear wise and valuable in his eyes. I have a family, and so he assumes that I am loved. I am going to war, and so he thinks me a valiant soldier.

Does he not know?

None of them know, none of them understand, and less of them would care to. I am none of what he said. I am only strong, and only that because I must be. Lonely in a cage. It is as if they shut me up behind iron bars and muffle my voice so that I will not be in the way. But they forgot to cover my eyes. And I can see their faces, masked with feigned compassion. Even those few who care about me do not have the right kind of concern, however much they wish they did or could. Some try. Truly, some really try to understand me. But they don’t have the time. There are more important things at hand. They have to take care of something else first. I am always the second priority, because I am a woman of the Court, and therefore I am strong.

And he called me brave. This young, small soldier who has not seen half of what I have. He would not know. How could he? I have wits enough to defend myself in battle, certainly, but that is not what he could have meant. He has never seen me fight. He barely knows me.

He has been in battles enough. In fact, I should have been the one calling him brave. I did not think to, but now that I am alone, in the dark, by myself under a cold mountain, and have time to think about things that I wish I did not have to, I can remember. The Lord Aragorn spoke much of his valor, of how he defended his friends against the minions of the Dark Lord, and how he watched after his companion…what was his name? Pippin. Yes. I saw his mouth curve into a smile when he uttered his name, even as he spoke of things of despair and weakness that we could do nothing about. How can he smile in such a time? My world is falling to pieces around me, those I love are leaving me, and though I once wished for chances to ride through the world and do great deeds, I now would give anything to return to those times that were—tears prick at my eyes when I think this word—peaceful. And yet he smiles. How cruel.

No. Like a veil of rain dissipating I realize that he is experiencing these same things—he is in the same plight as I. I shake my head against the darkness. What a fool I was a moment ago! To suggest that Merry’s world is not in shambles as mine is, or that mine is of more importance! And suddenly it becomes clear to me how similar we are. All of his friends are gone, one by one. His cousin was taken from him, and the White Wizard rode far away. All of his companions are in other lands, doing other things, great things. Even Aragorn has abandoned us, something that I begged to remain in my nightmares only. And we ride to our death. Our destination will be our last destination. And he smiles. And speaks the names of those he loves with hope in his voice.

Which one of us, then, is brave?

He saw that we are alike. But he did not see my eyes. While his are bright with the light of trust, mine are dim with despair. He does not know that I seek to embrace death. I am not brave. Just willing. Willing to give up.

Suddenly I feel very, very sad, and I do not understand why.

I do not have much to live for—he unwittingly spoke a lie when he said that. Is death such a hard thing, then? If I live, what reward will it be to return to my gag and my cage? My uncle—my father—he will not acknowledge me any more than ever he did. And my brother…assuming he lives through this…he was never with me. Always he was there, defending me against harm, stopping any who would seek to cause me pain, but not once did he do anything to alleviate the pain already there. The loneliness. He did not sit with me, he did not talk to me. What do I have to live for? Silence?

Merry is brave. And he has much to live for. But I have neither bravery nor reason to fear death. It will take nothing from me.

And I do not care if it takes anything from those around me. I do not care if I shall be missed. To be honest, I don’t think it will make a difference. If they pretended I was still alive, they would have the same that they had when I lived—a name, a face, an honor, nothing more.

Merry thinks that I am loved. He is wrong. What they love is but a shadow and a thought, nothing more.

My breath catches in my throat. I did not speak those words. Someone else said them, chiding me for giving my heart to what was not there. If he never comes back from the Dimholt Road, would I be able to imagine his face by mine and have lost nothing? I spoke few words to him ever, and spent no more than a few minutes in his presence through all the time I knew him. Yet I thought that I loved him.

Perhaps someone understood me better than I thought.

I clutch my robe around me tight. I do not understand anything. I do not even understand myself.

But apparently at least one person does. Would I do wise to listen to him? To put his words into practice?

A tear whispers down my face. I wish that Merry was here. He always manages to make you smile, as he does, even in the darkest hour. Even when it’s too dark to see the smile.

Maybe that’s what hope is. Waiting for the day to come, just so that you can see your friend grin at you.

I will try to wait a little longer, Merry. For you. Because you are fair and brave, and have much to live for.

And many who love you.

_With a sigh, you turn away,_  
With a deepening heart, no more words to say,  
You will find that the world has changed forever.  
The trees are now turning from green to gold,  
And the sun is now fading.  
I wish I could hold you closer…


End file.
